


If Amilyn Holdo was your Best Friend and Sometime Lover (And You Were Also Leia Organa)

by Popchop



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/F, I love them so much, If X Was Your Y, i regret precisely nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 17:46:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13323261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Popchop/pseuds/Popchop





	If Amilyn Holdo was your Best Friend and Sometime Lover (And You Were Also Leia Organa)

When you’re having a bad day in the Junior Senate, you’ll come in to your cubby - which you are solidly claiming is an office - to find that the whole thing has been bedazzled. This would cheer you immensely, because you are seventeen and you can only focus on the serious issues at hand for so long. You would go to balls and parties together, and kiss in corridors and in the rain and at the top of mountains.

  
She would turn up an hour late to your eighteenth birthday party because she was talking to a scruffy rebel spy who’s seen too much but can’t stop yet. When asked where she was, she would shrug, and tell you that ‘walls have ears’. You would think about this for a while and then check your rooms for imperial bugs.

  
When she sees you for the first time after the Death Star, she would undress your hair, climb into a bunk with you and hold you while you cry yourself to sleep, because everything has stopped for a moment and you thought you knew all along what you were risking but maybe you didn’t. Afterwards, she would help you put your hair into mourning braids.

  
If you officially promote her to Admiral - as she is, by now, the de facto speaker for the Council of Mothers on Gatalenta and their segment of this tenuously held-together alliance with its fleet - she would not put aside her impractical silks or her dyed hair. You would realise that to ask her that would be to ask her to deny herself, and you wouldn’t do that to her.

  
You would be thankful for her after the battle of Chyron Belt. You would feel the way the war turns, and know that her quick thinking and the destruction of that fleet - no matter the cost - changed its course. Later she would ask you if what she did was right, if it was worth it, if she spent those brave rebel lives well. Yes, you will say. Yes. It was worth it.

  
At your wedding in the waning days of the war you would look aside for a moment, laughing, and see her watching you with that little smile, and then see her turn away to the Herglic woman who seems to follow her everywhere she goes these days. She will gift you the twin of Alderaan’s royal sword, reconstructed from tourist holograms, which your husband will hang up on the wall of his ship. It will take you some months to realise that it’s full of jellybeans.

  
When your one and only son is a month old and your peace negotiations are over, she would turn up with an astrology chart for every planet that you have been to in the past year and spread them out on the floor of your apartment. Your husband would have to step around them. He might roll his eyes. She would spend a day going over each and every one to find the most hopeful birth chart (in between bringing you whatever you desire while you nap on the couch), which she would then hand-draw and deliver to you by the end of the week.

  
In the senate, she would oppose you and ally with you as the times demanded, but she would always be your friend. Gatalenta will remain beautiful and full of poets and philosophers, and neither of you would speak of what Alderaan might have been.

  
When it is revealed where you were adopted from, and you sweep into the senate, magnificent in black, she would still support you. She would tell anyone who would listen to her about your heroism. She would no longer be a senator - she retired years before, to spend time with her grandchildren and to debate philosophy, she thought the galaxy had asked enough from her - but she would immediately come to you, to tell you that the wind blows wrong and so she’s here.

  
When your husband leaves and your son - it’s too much - and your brother is gone and won’t take your calls (whether that’s normal or through the force, you cannot even feel him anymore), she would sit with you and make you endless cups of tea.

  
She would hold your hand just a little too long when saying a last goodbye and not care who saw.


End file.
